


To the grave

by sgtbaarnes (Thighz)



Series: Reaper 76 Week [8]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Reaper76 Week, Reaper76 Week 2018, old soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:45:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13420272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighz/pseuds/sgtbaarnes
Summary: I'll defend you.Gabriel is not done with Jack just yet.





	To the grave

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a day behind! Apologies! 
> 
> Day Four - Defense
> 
> Now with [artwork](http://infinite-atmosphere.tumblr.com/post/170240556103/reaper76-week-2k18-day-four-defend)!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy_

 

 

**To the grave**

 

 

 

 

Jack doesn’t like to use his age as an excuse for why he’s slower when injured, but unfortunately it’s a factor. One that he is paying for as he limps through the catacombs of his and Ana’s hideout. His hand is smearing blood along the walls, his visor is cracked and crumbling with every hitched step he takes.

Ana disappeared into the wind like he ordered, even with that pinched, irritated face she pulled when he barked it out.

_ You’re not the boss of me anymore, Jack. _

_ You’re not leaving Fareeha again. Get out of here. _

Now he struggles to lose the Talon operatives in the ruins of ancient kings. He’s glad she saw reason, but now he’s kinda regretting not having the backup. Then again, he’s not willing to risk anyone else in this godforsaken war.

He stumbles in a hole of loose sand and snarls, pain lacing up his side and fingers hooking into the cracks between blocks. His vision is wavy from blood loss, but he can still see it dripping into the sad, turning it black and muddy.

His ears don’t pick up anything but muted sounds, so he takes a chance and slides down the wall to rest. The sand puffs out under him and his side sears with unimaginable pain from the force of the drop. He hisses, putting a hand over it and wincing as it comes away worse than the first time.

That kid got a lucky shot.

Jack drops his head back against the wall, closes his eyes. The pain is a full-body experience and he hates it. But Ana’s gone and with the overwhelming force of the attack, he wasn’t able to grab anything but his rifle and his visor. No biotic grenades. Not his duffle. Which means they’ll have rummaged through it. Found the wrinkled photos of his mom and dad. His friends.

Gabriel.

That one photo he took on their honeymoon. Gabe in the bed, white sheets covering him from the ass down. Laying on his chest, hand half in the air and head in the pillow as he admires the gold band around his finger.

It’s the most weathered, worn picture he has. Because he’s a moron who can’t get go of the fucking past.

Something he’s so caught up in that he doesn’t hear the cock of a gun until it’s too late.

When he opens his eyes, it’s to face the black hole of a barrel and the same kid who took out a chunk of his right side.

“Here to finish the job?” He glances around the silver muzzle, making sure to meet the kids gaze behind the visor of his talon helmet.

The kids laugh is supposed to be intimidating, or demeaning, Jack’s sure, but it comes out weak, “I should. Ogundimu thinks he’s too _ sentimental  _ to kill you and I’m on orders to bring you to Reaper alive.” He can feel the sneer directed down at him, “But I think I’ll just let you bleed out here.”

Jack scoffs, but doesn’t say a word as a cloud of black materializes behind the kid. A form that nightmares are made out of towering above his cocky stance and raised weapon.

“Good job, kid.” Two taloned hands reach out through the smoke and settle at the kids jaw.

“No! No, no -.” Gabe twists his neck around and he drops at Jack’s booted feet like a ton of bricks.

The rest of the smoke sucks into human form and a kevlar covered boot shoves the kids body across the blood-stained sand. He falls into a crouch and the white mask and hood are shoved up to reveal a face that hasn’t aged a day in ten years.

Jack soaks it up like a starving man. Wants to reach out and touch, but the pain in his side is too bad and he doubts Gabe will let him.

Gabe reaches into the depths of his coat and pulls out a familiar yellow canister. He twists the top and drops it beside Jack’s knee. The warm, buzzing sensation of the healing factor numbs the pain and after a few seconds, he’s able to take a deep breath.

“So.” He drops an arm over his knee, “What brings you to my home?”

A dark eyebrow goes up, “You want to be funny  _ now _ ?”

Jack barks out an angry laugh, “I’m pretty convinced that I’m dead.”

Dark eyes flick down to the canister as it clicks shut. The glow is gone and the corridor goes dark once more.

“The only reason you’re still alive is because of me, Jack.”

“Oh that’s just great.” Jack snipes, “You shot me in the  _ back _ . Ana’s kept me locked up here for months trying to recover. You expect me to believe that shit?”

“I don’t.”

Jack shoves his hands through his hair, forgets his visors in the way, rips it off and throws it on the ground.

“God. What the hell, Gabe? What the  _ hell _ -.”

“Just keep fighting on your side.” Gabe yanks the mask back down.

Jack opens his mouth to argue, to fight. His blood burns with it and it’s familiar, it’s not new. They fought so goddamn much before everything went to hell. He wants to claw at Gabe’s face and demand answers to the questions he and Ana have been stressing over for years.

Why?  _ Why? Why? Why? _

“Reaper has the soldier!” A group of men appear at the end of the corridor.

“Damn.” Gabe growls.

They towards them, rifles up and obviously ready to take Jack down if he so much as twitches.

Gabe pulls out a shotgun from nowhere and levels it with Jack’s chest. One of those clawed hands drifts up to his face and cold metal knuckles drag down his cheek.

“You are all that’s left of my heart.” The words are whispered, Jack almost misses them, “I need you alive.”

Jack’s chest hitches and he can almost see that dark, empty gaze through the holes in the white mask.

But the touch, the longing stare, it’s gone before Jack can make sense of it.

Gabe stands up and whirls around, coal-colored smoke coats the ground at his feet like ash.

“Are we capturing him alive?” One of the men asks, nervously scanning the floor as it seeps over the sand and towards them.

“I am.” Gabe chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down Jack’s spine, “You’re not.”

 

 

  
  


**_End._ **

  
  
  



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